Something More, Nothing Less
by ChimericalParoxysm
Summary: When James dies, Lily and Regulus renew their friendship. Lily/James and unrequited Regulus/James. For Timed Tiers Challenge.


A/N: In response to Paris in December's Timed Tiers Challenge, wherein my prompt was, "When James Potter dies, Regulus Black comforts Lily Evans (opt. Potter)... then Regulus finds out James isn't really dead."

* * *

Regulus stared blankly at the front page of the Prophet – the page that so traitorously proclaimed James Potter's oh-so-tragic death. It wasn't possible. Not only because he hadn't been there himself, in his dreadful Death Eater getup, but also because, well, he was _James_. A weak argument, he knew, but one he couldn't quite get past. He could remember hours spent with Lily, hoping desperately that James would appear with his flirtatious grins and that hint of recklessness; the way he'd saunter in as though he owned the room and everyone in it… Perhaps he even had; he'd certainly owned Regulus, which was the entire reason he'd befriended Lily in the first place.

He smirked, imagining the look on her face if she ever found out – a mix of offended and amused, most likely.

He wasn't sure just how it had all started - when James had ceased to be just another jerk that had befriended his ignorant brother and had become… something more. He'd never really defined it in his head. He wasn't sure he could. But it was _something_, he knew, because at some point he'd started watching for him in the halls, his heartbeat speeding up when his diligence was rewarded. At some point he'd begun catching himself in the middle of lurid fantasies – imaginings that could never be brought to fruition but placed himself and James in deliciously wonderful situations and bearing negligible amounts of clothing.

The worst part, though, was when he'd started secretly cheering on the Gryffindors during Quidditch matches; when he'd taken Divination just to have another class with him; when he'd received the Dark Mark and James' face had flashed through his mind. His feelings had gradually evolved over the years and he'd never named a single one – he never wanted to.

In spite of the original reason, he and Lily had ended up close, though he'd never told her about James – he hadn't known how. She'd been his first and only real friend, but once she and James had started dating… He hadn't been able to look at them – look at _her_ – without this strange sensation in the pit of his stomach; another mixture of feelings he couldn't or hadn't put names to.

Shaking his head as though to rid himself of the sentiments, he tried to focus on the other aspects of their friendship – her laughter, so free and unlike that of his Slytherin counterparts; their debates on anything and everything, from deeply important values and beliefs, to the absolutely frivolous; her cheeky wit; her open mind; the way he could trust her with just _anything_… Bloody hell he missed this woman.

The pain she must be in… He wouldn't admit, even to himself, that he knew because he was feeling it, too, and as his mind verged on the confession, he quickly apparated to Godric's Hollow.

The house was dark, save for a soft glow coming from one of the larger windows, and so he knocked softly at the door.

"Who's there?"

"Lily, I- It's Regulus." He paused, considering his words. "I saw the Prophet."

There was hesitation on the other side of the door. "What was the fictional name we used for our hypothetical House Elf during our debates?"

Regulus grinned in spite of himself. "Blinky, though I distinctly recall you insisting it oughtn't have that 'ridiculous 'ee' sound' at the end."

She eased the door open, managing to look miffed in spite of her tear-stained cheeks, and reddened eyes. "Yes, well, I only conceded so we could get on with the arguing," she retorted weakly.

Her appearance could mean only one thing, and he forced his voice to strengthen, "It's true then? What the paper said?"

Tears, which she'd clearly been shedding all day, resumed their paths and she buried her face in his shirt. Regulus froze a moment. Physical contact had never much been a part of their relationship – nor of his relationship with anyone else – but as her body hit him, so did the full force of the situation. James was dead. James with his silly habit of mussing up his hair; James with his stupid snitch for all that he was chaser; James with his pranks, and jokes, and winks, and grins; James with his bravery, and courage, and altruism, and confidence… was gone. Tears pricked at his own eyes, as he wrapped his arms tightly around the small distraught woman sobbing into his chest, and then started slowly sliding down his face.

Eventually Lily pulled herself away, swiping viciously at the wetness on her cheeks. "Silly me," she said weakly, "Come in, Reg, would you like some tea?"

He could tell she asked only because she needed something to do, so he agreed some tea would be nice, for all that he suspected he was more likely to throw it at a wall than he was to drink any. He sat silently on the couch to which she'd gestured, the occasional tear escaping his eyes. A part of him was just _waiting_ for James to walk through the doors. Surely, any moment, he would appear, laughing about his most recent escapade, and with a grand explanation for why he wasn't actually dead. But Lily returned to the living room, setting the tea on the table, and there still was no James.

They sat in silence, drawing comfort from the other's presence, while somehow also sinking in the devastating truth. He kept his eyes trained on the walkway outside.

"I know," Lily said softly, "I've spent the entire day just staring out the window… Waiting… Thinking, 'Any time now, James.' But I've finally realised he's _not_ going to walk through the door. He's not going to make stupid jokes, or pull obnoxious pranks, or hold me, or kiss me-" Her voice gave way to sobs, and Regulus reached for her hand. "How, Reg? How do I- What do I-"

He forcibly held back his own tears. "I'm so sorry, Lily. I just- I don't know…"

She looked up at him, her pain so clear in her beautiful green eyes. "How can this be happening?"

Regulus opened his mouth, though the questions were his as well, and he knew he had no answers. And then the door slammed open, and they both reflexively jumped to their feet, drawing their wands on the entrance of the house. Regulus froze, the blood draining from his face. _It can't be…_ His thought was echoed to his right in Lily's hoarse whisper, and his mind began to race. It couldn't be James, he had to remind himself, and so it had to be a Death Eater… And if it was a Death Eater, he was here to finish of the Potters… Lily… He paused in confusion. But then why would he come alone?

Lily seemed to have reached the same confused conclusion, and evidently all in a manner of seconds, for the man was still in the doorway. He looked exhausted, leaning heavily against the frame. His hair was a disastrous mess, and his face was streaked with blood and dirt, and his clothes were torn almost to pieces… But he was still _beautiful_… Was there a chance? Regulus felt his betraying heart allow a trace of hope to seep into his veins.

"What were we trying to do?" Lily was asking warily, her wand still trained on her husband's look-alike, though her voice trembled slightly with her own smattering of hope. The man smiled wearily, as though the thought gave him strength.

"Get pregnant," he whispered. "We were trying to have a baby."

Regulus' hopeful heart froze. Pregnant. Of course. And for all that he'd never even entertained the notion that he might have a chance with James bloody Potter, this further affirmation of the man's devotion to someone else pierced him sharply.

"Oh, James!" she gasped, throwing herself into his waiting arms, punching him ineffectually even whilst clutching him desperately to her.

Regulus watched the scene as though through a window and for once he felt nothing. His wand arm had dropped, and his glassy eyes looked on numbly as she laughed and sobbed and kissed the man he-

He firmly cut off the train of thought but the torrential wave of emotion crashed through his dam. Relief, and pain, and happiness, and- He had to get away; had to escape. He couldn't watch it anymore.

He cast one look back at James – his last ever, though he didn't yet know it – a look filled with all those emotions he so steadfastly refused to name, and then he was gone.

Weeks later Regulus sat before a basin, his eyes unfocused, and terrors flitting through his mind. He somehow vaguely registered the Inferi as they overtook his solitary island, and he concentrated with all his might on a man with messy black hair, and wire-rimmed glasses – a man that could make his heart beat fast, and at other times make it halt in his chest – and he smiled a soft, wistful smile, and knew nothing more.


End file.
